


The Worst Feeling

by Mischief (MischiefAndFluff)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Dissociation, Gabriel and Reaper are separate beings, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Nightmares, One-Shot, Post-Fall of Overwatch, Sad Gabriel Reyes, mentions of reaper76 - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 20:00:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13795215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MischiefAndFluff/pseuds/Mischief
Summary: Gabriel Reyes has never been good at telling people he cared about them. And he regrets that thoroughly - especially when he keeps waking up to this empty bed.





	The Worst Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> So I ironically wrote this instead of sleeping because I haven't been able to write in forever (and I'm procrastinating on old stories). Thanks college for taking up literally all of my free time. Also, first time writing for the Overwatch fandom and of course it's going to be angsty because that's my specialty. I hope you enjoy your heartaches.

_Suffocation was probably the worst feeling in the world. The burning ache of your lungs, screaming for air. The restricted pain in your throat as you open your mouth to gasp but nothing comes of it. The dizzy feeling in your head as your very existence begins to blur and fade._

_Or maybe it was the chill of skin where a lover would never touch. The empty feeling of a bed too big for one body. The absence of a lingered, lazy morning kiss you only see in movies and in your dreams. The pang in your heart when you come to the startling realization that you will never be able to rid yourself of this grief._

_The worst feelings were somehow the most fickle - you never could point them out when they laid themselves out to you all at once._

_And he didn't know if he **could** point them out._

_Not when he was lost in this darkness - an empty void that overwhelmed his body. He felt weightless - floating - unable to anchor himself to any solid object in a room that held no color, no walls, no furniture, no stars. And it was there, cast out into a dark eternity, did the color of his own skin fade before his eyes. Daggers of black, negative space plunged through a body that did not bleed but still felt the pain. A fruitless scream that did not echo back, did not even make a sound. Head thrown back, limbs twisting and jerking in attempted escape. He was a doll to this darkness - a puppet in its command._

_He was drained - he was grey. Life sucked from his scarred figure, fingers stained with the same darkness that flourished throughout his veins, burning fire through his entire being. Another voiceless cry of agony. Dull fingernails clawed at his arms, his chest, which were alight with pain so intense he imagined someone carving into him with a knife too sharp for reality. He didn't want this. He could feel the ink seeping into his body, overcoming his lungs, making him suffocate on his own oxygen, staining his heart like the prick of a poison quill._

_As his fingernails broke skin, the darkness was sucked away, shattered by a bright light of overwhelming heat. Numbness. The pain retreated into the back of his mind, as though scared by the cool touch of anesthetic. But the room was no longer cool. In fact, he was sweating, opening his eyes to a blurring world around him. His ears rang, high-pitched, unhearing. The stench of gunpowder. Smoke. Heat. A fuzzy figure in his eyes - pale, blonde. Blue. That was such a beautiful color. His favorite color. It was so peaceful, so calm and cool. The color of the sky, of the ocean. Of sparkling jewels._

_The ringing slowly gave way to a muffled voice. What was it saying? It sounded distant. The world threatened to be overcome with black again. His eyes felt heavy. He forced them open. He was scared of the dark. He didn't want to face it again. Not like this. Not alone. Was he alone? The image looming over him was starting to become a little more clear. It was then that he became increasingly aware of himself. He was laying on his back, looking up at someone he couldn't quite see yet. His body felt heavy, like the weight of the world were resting on him. And as far as he was concerned, it might as well have been._

_He couldn't move. Why?_

_He couldn't... feel. He couldn't feel his **body**._

_He felt... suffocated. Like his lungs were full of water. His breaths became quick, panicked, wheezed. His heart was a scattered mess, not knowing if it wanted to race or if it wanted to take its time, making him anxious as to if the next beat would come. A part of him didn't want it to come. It would only spread the void further through his veins._

_"Gabe!"_

_His ears were clearing. He struggled to focus on the image above him. Everything was so foggy. He felt like he was trying to look through a dirty window._

_"Gabriel!"_

_Wait... That was his name. Right? His head lolled to the side, against his approval, but was quickly pulled back. There was something on his cheek. A hand? It was warm. It was rough. Callouses. He looked up again. Blonde. Pale. Soft. Blue. The words made his chest stutter, his lungs aflame. The liquid feeling was starting to rise, started to clog his airway. He choked on his words, his lips parting, but only to let out the sputtered sounds of half-hearted coughs. The water from his lungs overflowed, leaking down his cheeks from the sides of his mouth, making trails towards his ears._

_"Gabriel, hold on! Hold on, we- .... We're gonna get out of here."_

_The world shifted, gave way, broke down again. He let his heavy eyes drift shut. The ringing in his ears stopped. Deafening silence. He opened his eyes again. He was upright, sitting on a flat rooftop. His feet dangled dangerously off the edge, his hands on either side of him, resting against the rough concrete. The sky was a pale blue, interrupted by bright bursts of color from the distant sunset. Pale. Blue. Yellow. Blonde._

_This was oddly peaceful. Except... he still couldn't breathe. And when he tried, he felt his chest seize up again, his lungs expelling the excess liquid that still remained. He sputtered again, trying to cover his mouth but finding his body shocked into stillness. He couldn't move, not even as dingy red surpassed his lips and left splashing stains on his already dirty jeans. He looked away from the peaceful scene set before him, dark eyes locking with the soaking mess. Red._

_He felt a cold chill zip up his spine, locking him in place, eyes widening in shock. Cold._

_Darkness then, forming around his body, a wall of it encasing him slowly from behind. It crept up into his peripherals, crawling along his arms, wispy curls of empty flames. Black._

_A press of something against his throat - a hand - bearing down on his windpipe, choking up more blood to spill over, the sharp bite of silver claws against his heated skin. Rough._

_Red. Blood. Cold. Black. Rough. Dark._

_He's afraid of the dark. He doesn't like the possibilities that lay in the void he cannot see through._ _From it, voices call out to him, reminding him, taunting him, blaming him._

_He's afraid of the dark. He's blind in it, he can't find his way, the world always feels so different._

_He's afraid of the dark. It's overcoming him, consuming him, wrapping him up, covering him._

_He chokes._

_He's afraid of the dark. He's afraid of the dark. **He's afraid of the dark. He's afraid.**_

 

 

Air had never been more welcome into a man's lungs before than when Gabriel gasped himself into wakefulness, hands frantically clawing at his chest, trying to free himself from the suffocation he had felt within. His breathing was ragged, panicked, small sounds of anxiety slipping out and actually reaching back to his ears. He was whimpering, pathetic, fingers moving to comb quickly through his hair. It had grown out a bit, now falling over his forehead in loose, lazy black curls though the sides remained short. His mind was in an adrenaline induced haze, eyes darting about in the darkness of his room. He still felt the cool sheets over him, the comfortable mattress that dipped under his weight.

He reached over to his bedside lamp, flooding the room with warm light. He looks around again. No threats.

His hands move next to him, reach for... something. Reaching for comfort. His eyes follow. He finds himself staring at the empty side of his bed, fingers splayed across the place that might have once held a sleeping figure. Pale. Blonde. Soft. Blue....

His mind retreats into itself, eyes widening in a fraction of realization before they slowly relax again. His terrified, buzzing anxiety starts to subside, swept over with a cool blanket of darkness. Cold. Black. Dark.

He finds himself put at ease again, curiously staring at the empty side of his bed as though he had forgotten why he had looked there in the first place. He glanced once more around his room, an absent reassurance that there was no one there. And then he turned towards the lamp, fingers reaching under the lampshade. His skin was grey, devoid of color, fingers stained an even darker shade. A soft  _click_. The room plunged back into darkness. Ruby eyes left a faint glow against the white of his pillow as he laid back down, filling his lungs with fresh air, thankful for the clear airway.

Red. Blood. Cold. Black. Rough. Dark.

He loved the dark. There were so many possibilities that lay in the void where others could not see him. From it, he could call out to others, luring them into his claws.

He loved the dark. It made people lose their way, made them blind to his tricks.

He loved the dark. He could so easily overcome people, consume them, wrap them up, control them.

He closed his eyes.

He was not Gabriel.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so for anyone that might be curious about the ending here, let me clear that up real fast: my personal headcanon is that Gabriel and Reaper are two separate beings. Kind of.   
> To me, Reaper is a sort of demon that started to possess Gabe while he was still in Overwatch, but it wasn't until Moira fused him and Reaper together did it really take effect. Because of this, Gabe is still able to be himself at times and can learn to control Reaper the longer they are together, but Reaper will take over whenever he sees fit or whenever Gabe's subconscious decides that he can't handle a certain situation.


End file.
